This Chicago man has really laid it all out there – literally.
I dont know why this would be necessary, but we live in building located by Addison/Lakeshore.
And I've seen you before and you have seen me. About a month ago we had a talk as we both got our mail about getting a dog and my thought was; Hey, become friends with this girl, then woo her into a relationship and start a family, etc.
Well today, or this morning rather, the worst thing happened and I am literally hating myself.
Yes I am one of the few assholes who actually gets the newspaper delivered to my apartment (so I can clean my windows and start Bon Fires easier). What's more, I sleep naked. Judge me all you want but it's just what I do. I'm like a caveman I suppose. I'll continue...
Walking around this morning as I used my morning wood to hold up my IPad, I picked up some things here and there then looked out my eye hole to see my paper was delivered but about 10 feet from my door, right by the start of where the stairs decend. It was early, so I didn't fear getting caught and being as it was laundry day I just didn't want to calculate the energy it would take to get sorta dressed just to get the stupid Trib. And so, with my eyes still blury from my deep sleep the night before, I spring out of my door to grab the paper. I had been planning to lean over and grab it and then run back inside. You know that thing where you lean over and one foot comes up while the other stays on the floor? Regardless of the dangers involved exposing your butthole this close to Boys Town especially if you work out as I do, it still seemed like a simple maneuver.
Sadly, I did not execute it that well. And though you are partly to blame, I am not mad at you. Ya see here is what you need to know. The minute, the exact minute I grabbed the paper, the door to your apartment at the bottom of the stairs shut, quite loudly I must say. I was so caught off guard I kept leaning forward as my brain struggled to make sense of the physical nature I was involved in. Meanwhile, my body essentially decided to do a cartwheel, then a somersault, then a backwards somersault, followed by an almost flawless swan pose for a second or two (I just went with it), whereupon I concluded the fall down the stairs completely naked with botched backflip, one that somehow left your face in the area I use to excrete the byproducts of metabolizing food.
Struggling to get up, as you screamed, I hit my head on the bottom of a fire extinguisher metallic compartment, and honestly, the alone hurt like a mother. Bleeding at the crown of my eye, blood poured down to my forehead and face as my one foot caught in the railing as well as your Dolce Gabana Light Blue perfume made it extremely difficult to get off you. Not sure how, but somehow, someway, my morning wood was still prevalent and I know this is the wrong time to make note of it, but right then and there I chalked it up to a recent increase I'm Fiber.
It doesn't matter how this all ended. And any way, the detective seemed more suspicious of the fact I still read that the newspaper more so than my bad luck, but no charges were pressed. I heard you were taken to Rush Hospitals "Where PPO's mean more" to be evaluated for some sort of shock or post traumatic stress which was ironic because in a way you were probably stressed out just from me falling on you naked! Right? Noting this weird occurrence to our building manager, he shook his head and asked if I had read Of Mice And Men. I said no to which he replied I should be treated like the idiot ae the end of the story. I am guessing this was the novel that was made into Forrest Gump? I dunno... Whatever. Look, I live right upstairs. Come over after work and let's listen to some CCR and see where the Franzia takes us.